Literary Game No. 4: Fire From the Sky

This post was prompted by the latest of the Literary Games writing prompts from @allentaylor - you can read the full prompt HERE

Image created by AI in NightCafe Studio

"Ma ! Pa ! Come quick ! The cornfield is on fire !" the terror in Jonnie's voice was unmistakeable. Fire did that to people. It was an atavistic, violent and unpredictable force which could be temporarily bought to heel but could never be fully controlled.

Jaime and Marya rushed out of the farmhouse, and could only stare in dismay at the crop they were relying on going up in flames, plumes of grey smoke disappearing into the night sky.

High above them, the heavens were torn by streaks of flame. Debris falling to the planet below after the savage orbital battle a week before. The Planetary Militia had held off the attacking Einheriar squadron long enough for the regular Navy to rush some battle cruisers over to help. But the price had been terrible; a hundred or more light space fighters left smashed and drifting dead around their world, as well as the score of Einheriar craft.

No-one thought that the aftermath would be so terrifying. Nobody in authority had talked on the 3V abut the amount of debris and twisted wreckage a space battle left behind, or bothered to raise the alarm about gravity taking it's course.

Just over the horizon, a red glow arose from the city of Happy Landing.

"Ain't no fire truck driver going to come and help us," Jaime said morosely. "They got their own worries, we gonna have to do this on our own."

Jaime's distrust of the city authorities was legendary around the farming community. Even if help had been sent, he probably would have turned it down.

The family all knew the drill. Everyone grabbed a hosepipe and prepared to do battle with the advancing flames.

It kept them up all night. They just had to keep dousing the nearest flames until they retreated for a little while. The cornfield was gone, and so was the barn. But they'd saved the farmhouse, and the shed where the tractor and tools lived.

As dawn broke after a night which felt it had lasted forever, Dan Tomaz from over the hill appeared, driving his ancient grav-car. When he saw the house still standing, he broke out into a huge grin.

"Hey neighbours, you done good ! I thought your farm would have become just a heap of ash like so many around here. Don't you worry about the cornfield. All that lovely ash and muck will turn into the best soil you've ever had. Gonna be a bumper crop next year."

Then, after rooting around in the footwell of his car he hauled out some bottles filled with a suspicious-looking cloudy liquid. "Thought you might be thirsty after all them flames. Here, I bought you some of my own very special homebrew cider. Enjoy !"